


Dance Your Heart Out Bucky Barnes

by thequeenwhowaited



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Clubbing, Confusion, Dresses, Hurt Steve Rogers, Insecurity, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mistaken Identity, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Era, Motorcycles, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Roommates, Steve Needs a Hug, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenwhowaited/pseuds/thequeenwhowaited
Summary: Steve meets a hot mysterious stranger at an underground speakeasy and It’s Love at First Sight.... but Steve isn't actually 21 like his fake ID says... and this stranger is a lot out of his league...Fate connects them for a reason though... even if Natasha Highly Disapproves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you didn't read the tag or the summary: Steve Rogers starts this fic as a MINOR. He is UNDERAGE when he first meets mysterious stranger. 
> 
> There is nothing sexual that happens in this chapter.

Steve was late. 

He was running as fast as he could in cherry red stiletto heels through the puddled concrete of Queens but he knew that he wasn’t going to make it in time. 

Natasha told him to be at this new bar that she found… Some underground place that hosted the latest aesthetic phase that they both were into: Futuristic speakeasies. 

But the main problem well… Problems…. Stemmed from two sources. 

You needed a period piece costume to get in the place  
You had to be at the front door before 10 or else you couldn't enter. 

Steve got the costume part down, for he was a cross between a classic femme fatale and a noir inspired detective…. He had fashioned and sewed a vintage heavy trench coat into the stylish dance floor worthy dress…. Deep V-neck to show off his collarbones… sexy silts running up the side to show off a little leg and completed the look with a classic fedora and a red bowtie choker that mirrored the painted on lipstick kiss on his cheek. 

He had given up on his hair because it did whatever it wished.... no amount of gel was going to make it behave. 

Overall though, it was cute. He was cute and his pricked fingertips were going to be worth all the looks he got. 

Steve thought he looked great… His normally too skinny arms looked amazing in the cut off sleeves of the trench coat and he was surprised how well he could run in these heels.. Especially since he was normally extremely clumsy on any flat surface. 

The buzz in his pocket from his phone brought Steve back to the present and away from staring at his reflection in the big store windows as he passed. 

He should have taken an Uber or a cab or something but it was too late for that type of thinking and he dreaded what the text from Natasha said. 

He skidded around the last corner, trying to not break his heels from the force of his turn. 

And there it was. 

Or at least Steve swore this was the address. Another blank door with nothing to mark it out. Half-hidden behind one of those industrial dumpster. 

The whole aspect of it being underground meant that it was supposed to blend in with its surroundings and this was also the case with this place. 

He dug into his pocket to check his phone for the time and the directions to the damn place….fanning himself with his other hand to try to cool down. 

Nat: Yes, you’re at the right place.

It was scary how she could do that. Predict his questions before he even asked him… But that's what happens when you were best friends with Natasha. 

He put his phone back into his pocket and pulled the handle to open the door… Only for it to stay stuck in place. 

The password of course….. How could he have forgotten. Underground. Hidden. Duh. 

He knocked on the door twice and a slot opened that Steve didn’t even realize was there with a pair of green beady eyes staring back at him. 

“Umm, yes, The Fat Cat Sits in the Back.. Waiting for his next Midnight Snack” Steve mumbled off the top of his head, feeling extremely silly. 

The slot closed and the door slid across inviting Steve in. 

He exhaled a sigh of relief and was quickly introduced to the smooth sound of a jazz number, peppy enough to encourage people to dance but still smooth enough to talk around. 

It was surprising the amount of people that were there and Steve felt silly, overdressed even on the streets of New York, but here almost the dancing crowd of tasteful bedazzled skirts and the curls of fake cigar smoke, he felt at home. 

He made a quick sweep of the room, standing over to the side in order to let people move past him and adjusting his hearing aid to the louder noise of the club’s general chatter. 

Yet, he couldn't find Natasha anywhere despite the added height and was about to text her when he saw Him. 

He was Temptation. Worse than seeing that double decker cake in the fridge after you’d swear that you’d start your new diet plan this week… And every week since you’d first said that false promise months ago. 

He was Temptation. The picture of walking sin incarnate. A man that could make God himself cry with every thrust of his hip bones and every coolly delivered line that fell out of his mouth. 

Steve knew that the man was more of a wolf than a person and with his analogy appropriate red bowtie, he found himself straying from the main path of bodies and walking towards the Bar where he was leaning against, casually smoking, eyes looking across the dance floor at no one is particular. 

The click of Steve’s heels was in time to the music and he carried his red clutch with both hands as he walked towards the handsome stranger as inconspicuously and subtly as he could. 

Steel blue eyes stared at him lazily over the smoke of an actual still burning cigarette…. Not like the fake stuff that was pumped into the air to give it that smokey atmosphere. 

“You lost, sweetheart?” His real voice could never compare to the one that Steve had given him in his head, from the rasp of the syllables that was strictly New York to the drawl of the old time affectionate nickname. 

“Because, no offense, I’d think I’d remember a pretty face like yours.” 

He ended his sentence with a smirk as he blew out his smoke on cue and Steve noticed the slight movement in the other man’s hips as an invitation to stare. 

Normally, the line that cheesy would never have affected him but there was something magnetizing about the stranger that made Steve’s brain short circuit. 

He was strong. No that was an understatement. Any committed man with a $30 membership to a gym could be considered strong. 

This guy. 

This guy was powerful. Dangerous. Predatory. 

Something about the way he leaned casually against the wood of the makeshift bar made Steve nervous as if any moment, the guy would spring a knife on him if he wanted to. 

And that feeling stemmed from his torso. Scarred from too many unlucky knifefights and gunfights and dirty fistfights as a cocky little shit teenager, the scars pulling tight against his abdomen creating a small ridge glare that Steve wanted to get his fingers on. 

And finally, it was in his pants .. Well the way he was wearing them. 

Low on his hips, unbuttoned like he didn't have the time or the care to fix it, and ripped in so many places which assumed that he wore them far more often than the inside of a washer did. 

And that was before the whole metal arm thing. 

Vagabond war hero without a care in a world ft. Faraway star into the distance was a look that he definitely knew how to pull off. 

Steve was pretty sure that his mouth was stuck open and he hurried quickly to stay into his character. 

“I dunno ace, I’ve been a lot of places. Maybe you’ve just forgotten me” Steve replied, fixing his hat to hide his blush, he was completely in over his head with this guy but goddamn he was a good looking guy and Steve was desperately single okay? 

He smiled fully this time, encouraged by Steve’s reply, the jangle of his dog tags ringing like a bell through the haze of the club. 

“Oh alright, dollface, I love dames who play hard to get..” He winked and Steve felt the feeling settling around in his core for later, “How ‘bout you and me make some new memories then?” 

Internally, Steve was screaming. 

This guy was clearly out of his league… like light years away, in another galaxy out of his league… in more ways than one and yet he was clearly showing some interest in him. 

However, something in him wanted to continue this game a little more. 

“My mam told me not to talk to strangers.” Steve walked closer to the man’s space, seemingly fitting perfectly into the space his spread legs created, placing one hand on the outside of the jeans, steadying the both of them. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” He tipped the hat up so he could see more of Steve’s blushing face, “My name is Bucky. What’s yours?” 

His clever metal fingers were playing with the short hairs at Steve’s neck making him shudder at the intimate gesture and he knew he was redder than a tomato in July. 

“Steven Grant Rogers” Natasha’s cool voice broke the spell that Steve swore that Bucky had placed him under, “Here, I am worried out my damn mind and I find you…. Compromised with a stranger.” 

Steve couldn't bring himself to break the soft hold that Bucky had him in but he felt rude to turn his back to either of them. 

“You got some ‘plaining to do sweetheart.” Bucky said, whispering in Steve’s ear like it was a secret. “Cause I'm pretty sure she’s a little too young to be your mom.” 

Bucky’s voice raised one eyebrow slowly to look at Steve’s embarrassed face. “And I’m not exactly keen to step in on some broad’s dancing partner” 

“Nat’s a friend, slick“ Steve calmed him by placing a hand on the metal arm and subconsciously patting at the muscle underneath. “She don’t mean no harm.” 

“The dame is cramping our style, baby...” Bucky continued, slightly irate that she was still there, crossing her arms and staring down at Steve to do something. “Why don’t you do something bout it?” 

But Steve wasn’t doing something fast enough so Nat stepped in to help. 

“This broad is going to cramp more than just your style, ace.” She grabbed Steve by his upper arm and pulled him free. “Short stack here, is two weeks short of his 18th” 

Steve twisted in her hold a little to look at Bucky’s shocked blue eyes before he quickly composed himself. 

“I get the message, Red.” Bucky withdrew his hands off of Steve and messed up his hair to get rid of some of the nervous energy that had fallen over the group. “I can keep my hands to myself if need be… scout’s honor!” 

Natasha nodded twice though she doubt he had ever been a scout and turned to go through the stomping crowd, pulling and dragging Steve along with her.

Steve looked back once as if to memorize Bucky in his mind so he could capture him in his sketchbook for later. 

He was probably being his usual dramatic artist self but he genuinely felt a connection between the two of them but Bucky’s reaction made him hesitant to simply follow Natasha back into the crowd. 

But Bucky had other plans and he darted forward to slip a piece of crumpled napkin in Steve’s other hand. 

Steve faltered for a moment, curious at the brunette’s actions, but luckily Bucky saved him the trouble of letting his mind run wild with possibilities. 

His eyes twinkled in the club’s smoky yellow lighting and there he went again with that infuriating smirk followed with a shush gesture. 

He kissed the back of Steve’s napkin filled hand with a big wet sounding kiss, laughed a little at Steve’s frozen expression, and then he went the opposite direction of the crowd … seemingly disappearing from sight. 

Steve shoved the napkin in his pocket before Natasha could see and let the relaxing nature of being in a crowded space with like-minded souls take over him. 

~~~

After 5 great hours filled with dancing old timey Dances… Sometimes with Nat…. Sometimes with strangers who just wanted to have a fun time and drinking enough virgin Shirley Temples to permanently turn his tongue red, Steve was exhausted but giddy on a sugar high as Nat bade him goodnight at his door.

“Don’t stay up too late and drink some water.” 

“Okay Mom.” Steve replied with a soft laugh, remembering what Bucky had said earlier about Nat. 

She opened her mouth and then just smiled, “I’m still older than you Rogers and I got Sarah on speed dial.” 

“You wouldn't.” 

“Bet.” 

They stared each other down until Steve broke with a smile which cause Nat to smile back. 

“Just. Be careful, kiddo, don't be stuck in the crotchety world of adults like the rest of us just yet.” 

“Nat, you're 22 not ancient.” He said with a pout, crossing his arms at how ridiculous she was acting. “Plus he was nice.” 

“The Wolf was nice too,” She replied, giving him a big kiss on the opposite…. Non-lipstick side of his face but it matched. “Goodnight, my sun.” 

“Goodnight. Widow.”

She had climbed out the window and to the balcony, sneaking back into her room to avoid waking up her roommate. 

Steve has been lucky enough to get a single… his roommate had dropped out after a couple of weeks so he had the entire space… even though it wasn’t a lot to begin with... to himself. 

He had offered for Nat to move in with him but she just smiled her mysterious smile at him in response. 

He still didn't know what that meant but he had the privilege of two long singles pushed together and didn't have to worry about waking a roommate up. 

It was a little lonely though. Especially since he had a hard time making friends time begin with. 

He had taken off his heels, rolling his ankles as he went to get the soreness out of them, and he was currently stretching on the couch, waiting for his hot pockets in the microwave to finish cooking. 

It was easy to forget about Bucky on the crazy noise of the dancefloor but here in the quiet of the apartment, Steve could not remember anything but Bucky… From those blue eyes to those abs that Steve had yet to truly feel to the way he held his cigarette between his ring finger so he had to bring his entire hand up to smoke it…. He was poetry in motion and Steve was still captivated. 

No one had ever made him feel this way and it was a weird mix of pride at himself for mostly keeping his cool in the face of someone that hot and irritation that he couldn’t act normally around him and then butterflies… tons of tons of butterflies that got his heart beating a million different ways and Helpless… totally and completely… that made him want to spin around in circles on tiptoe and just Dance it all out... He could see himself walking down the aisle and signing the adoption papers already… and for some lucky reason the kids would have his eyes and-and-

And then the microwave timer beeped at him, causing him to curse out of his daydream, hoping that no one had woken up to the sound due to the stupidly thin walls. 

He always burned his tongue on the “pizza” and this time was no different.

In his haste to get some water to drink, he had tripped over the tasteful kitchen rug causing his phone and other random objects to fall out of his pockets. 

Groaning, he sat up, making sure that his phone wasn’t cracked any further and thumbing through the messages from Nat and his potential new roommate Sam. 

His eyes then fell on the napkin and he remembered it to be the same napkin that Bucky had shoved into his hand before he had left. 

He unwrinkled it as best as he could to reveal a message written in blue point pen. 

“XXX-XXXX. B.” 

Steve wondered if it was too late to call him… Seeing that it was now 3am but something told him to call Bucky… the sneakiness of it all was thrilling especially since Nat had essentially said no to the whole ordeal. 

Bucky answered on the second ring but it was hard to hear him over the sound of yet another club but this one was more modern than the speakeasy. 

“I was hoping you’d call.” 

“How did you know it was me?” Steve smiled even though Bucky couldn’t see him, swinging his feet back and forth as he sat on the kitchen counter nibbling on his still too hot pizza “I was hoping you’d answer. I wanted to hear your voice again.” 

“You’re the only one worth giving out my number to.” Bucky chuckled and it sent tingles up Steve’s spine. “That or its Tones wanting me to get weird donuts or something… but I prefer hearing your voice over his anyday.” 

“Well, smooth talker, seeing how my dear warden is determined to keep my purity safe for another two weeks…. I’d figured I could almost survive if I heard your voice to inspire me through it” Steve replied back, nibbling on a piece of pepperoni. 

“About that.” Steve could hear Bucky tossing his hand through his hair. Somehow along the way he had found a quiet spot to just talk to Steve. “I am….22. So she had every right to stop us… even if you did consent to it.” 

“22?” Steve said in mock outrage, placing a hand on his chest like a Southern belle, his tone getting breathy and high pitched,“My oh my heavens, I thought you were at least 40 years old sir! How dare you.” 

“And yet you were the one who continued flirting back!” Bucky said quickly in response. 

“Maybe I like them a little older.” Steve said slyly, his tone dropping slightly as he moved the phone to be cradled by his shoulder as he threw away his plate. 

“Excuse me, officer, I have some jailbait on the line that needs to be arrested for public indecency.” 

“Says the craddle robber who physically didn’t have his jeans buttoned properly.” Steve fired back, flushing again, “If I'm getting arrested for flirting than you definitely are getting arrested for… that!” 

“So you were staring.” Bucky said quickly causing Steve to become stunned with a lack of response. 

Bucky chuckled at the fact that he managed to shut Steve up for just a second. 

Steve exhaled slowly, trying to stop his face from burning, “Seriously though, Bucky...” 

He sensed the change of mood and sobered up quickly, “Yeah, Steve?”

“It’s scary how quickly and how well we mesh together.” Steve started drawing nonsense patterns on the kitchen tabletop, stalling for time. “I barely even know you and…. Well… it's easy… I feel like I’ve done this a million times before and it's a lot.” 

“You’re totally right.” Bucky replied, “I've never met anyone like you, Steve, and it scares me how young you are. I feel like I’m doing something wrong just by wanting to talk to you. I’m glad that you called me but you don’t have to call again if you feel uncomfortable. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable because of me.” 

“I like talking to you too tho!” Steve panicked a little and nearly dropped his phone in the process, “But Nat was right… You are a little…. old for me.” 

The quiet of the city streets stretched over the line, both not knowing how to speak the words that they both didn't want to hear. 

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky said softly, as if he wasn't trying to scare him off with the truth. This was the true Bucky that wasn’t bound in leather jackets and sarcasm. “Get rid of my number okay? Go live your life not worried about this shit.... I shouldn't have done what I did and I think a clean break would be great before things get more complicated than it already is. ” 

Steve was watching how the dark sky was slowly turning lighter as the sun started to rise, his heart heavy. His heart was telling him that that was the most bullshit idea ever and he should never let Bucky go but the logics popped in and reminded him of all ways this was completely the best thing to do.

Because he was already in too deep. It was already too damn complicated. 

“Steve?” 

Steve laughed softly “I think it’s kinda funny how the sun is gonna rise soon... kinda reverse metaphor… or something like that”

He was two seconds away from crying and he didn't know why a stranger had this much power over his emotions already. 

It left him confused and the lingering feeling that he was choosing something wrong even though it was the right thing to do. He barely knew the guy and it was better to just hang up the phone and let him go… 

“Steve?” Bucky said after some time, “I’m going to hang up okay?” 

“No wait.” He sniffled a little and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, “Watch the sunrise with me?” 

And they did. 

Steve sitting on his kitchen table, his own broken heart in his fragile hands, hot pocket pizza tasting like sawdust. 

And Bucky walking home on the streets, a little tired of the commotion that came from the night, even though he normally would have latest til several morning over. 

The city coming alive as he went… though his heart felt even more Dead than normal.

And it was a such beautiful sunrise.


	2. Moonlight Chorus Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows that nothing good happens after 2 am... or at least those of us who binge watched HIMYM know....  
> But what if something good did happen after 2 am... especially when two strangers cross paths yet again... 
> 
> It's 2 am. Another meet-cute. Another time. Another chance for two strangers to say hi. Another fate. Another day. Another chance to make him stay.

“Fancy meeting you here, cutie.” 

Steve’s smile was tired yet soft as his dress swished as he walked back home…. but his tired demeanor did not reach his eyes which were shining with recognition though his heart twinged at seeing who it was that had interrupted his mindless train of thought. 

“What’s an old alley cat like you doing here?” Steve responded back across the street at him, “It’s almost dawn… a little late for you to still be out.” 

Bucky laughed, his shoulders bouncing due to his hands in his leather jacket pockets, joining Steve on his side of the street. He knocked shoulders into Steve which made Steve lose his balance a little while he walked along the curb “Tis not dawn just yet, Romeo, this alley cat still has some night to spare…. For you especially.” 

“Surely that is dawn’s light,” Steve replied readjusted his heels in his hands, “We did not part favorably last time so why would you think-” 

“~Stevie~ it's not my fault you-” 

“~Bucky~” Steve sang in the same tone. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

He walked a little faster but Bucky’s long legs easy matched pace with him. Steve huffed out in frustration while Bucky laughed how easy it was to rile him up. 

He was shivering a little in the early morning fog, finally realizing why a cold shoulder dress was called a cold shoulder. 

“You know,” Bucky said, grabbing a street sign with one hand to spin himself around, “No respectable woman would ever walk home in her stockings… you’re going to ruin them” 

Steve flipped him off as he turned back to look at him, “No respectable woman would be talking to a heinous catcaller at this hour either but here we are.” 

“Ouch. ” Bucky said with his stupid New York drawl stretching out the word with syllables that it didn't have, “Real lady-like there Rogers.” 

“Fuck off, Barnes.” Steve replied, cross at the whole ordeal, shoving his hand through his hair to get his bangs out of his eyes “Go bother someone who cares.” 

“Can’t.” Bucky shrugged, easily outpacing Steve. “He kicked me out.” 

“Ha!” Steve laughed out once, “He probably realized how terrible you are and saved himself before it was too late” 

The words hurt Steve and he regretted them as soon as he said them, biting his lip to worry at the lip ring before he said anything else. 

“Look who’s talkin…” Bucky motioned towards Steve, “picture of a Walk of Shame slinking back heading home before dawn... holdin your heels and everything” 

“I bet whoever kicked you out thought you were just as terrible… ‘specially with that temper of yours” He continued with a smirk. 

Steve flushed in irritation but he was glad he didn't hurt Bucky too bad and then got cross again when he felt happy about not hurting Bucky. 

He crossed his arms and mumbled, “I lost my wallet, asshole. Had to get home somehow...” 

Bucky stopped to look at him, noting the difference in their clothing with Bucky appropriately dressed in his standard jacket and a red scarf thrown on, beanie, gloves… essentially warm enough for the weather and Steve shivering in his cold shoulder dress and sheer stockings… 

“And the asshole let you walk home lookin’ like that?” Bucky whistled, “You sure know how to pick ‘em Rogers…” 

Steve rolled his eyes but Bucky quickly shoved his beanie over Steve’s head and wound his scarf twice around his neck. 

Steve was so shocked that he stopped walking as Bucky continued walking ahead, whistling some song that Steve heard on a commercial for some weird gadget thing. 

Bucky turned to look at him, questioning why Steve had stopped, “Can’t have you getting sick, short stack… you’re already shivering.” 

The spell that had been cast over Steve ceased and ran to catch up to him, “You're still an asshole…” 

Bucky threw his head back to laugh. 

“Yup. I'm the asshole for keeping you warm so you won't die nameless on the streets.” Bucky replied stoically. 

Steve scoffed out his irritation, “I’m not a child anymore Bucky. I can take care of myself.” 

“You keep telling yourself that sugar.” Bucky continued walking keeping in pace with Steve. 

“I’m 21 now...” Steve said, cross at him for treating him like a child. 

“Congrats.” Bucky said blankly, “I wouldn't throw away the fake ID just yet though,” 

“Told you, you were an ass.” Steve replied, knocking into him yet again. 

Bucky took it and sighed, “What are you doing Steve?” 

Steve had no clue what he was talking about. “Walking home?” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, “You know what I mean.” 

“Sorry, slick,” Steve said with a pop, “No clue what you're talking about.” 

It was only a few more blocks so he looked both ways before crossing the street, it was a ghost town out here but to Steve it was filled with the spirits of adventures he hadn't accomplished just yet… but to Bucky, it was choked with the spirits of past memories, laughing and taunting him, once they were really fun times filled with really fun people but now they were only remembrances of how old he actually was. 

The years that had been so kind to Steve… had been so cruel to Bucky…. And he couldn’t comprehend how Steve couldn't see the bigger picture. 

There's was a time limit and he realized how fucking awful it all was now that he was at the bottom half of the hourglass… choking on that sand. 

“What were you really do out here?” Bucky continued like it was a joke, “Reporting teenagers for staying out past their bedtime? Cause no way someone that heartless took pity on ya and brought you home justa kick ya out again.” 

Steve just scoffed, “She’s much better company than you.” 

“So a lady caller then.” Bucky said with an eyebrow raise. “You really have grown up.” 

“Ass.” Steve shoved him forward, “She’s not like that at all… you wouldn't get it.” 

“Help me understand at least.” Bucky said, using his superior weight to lean back against Steve, “Cause she must be blind to forgive a face like that.” 

“Nah,” Steve said softly, kicking the leftover snow piles and thinking about her, “She’s getting pretty old now though that's for sure and her memory isn't what it was” 

“Steve, you dog.” Bucky said with some fake shock in his voice, “Never pegged you to be a gold digger.” 

Steve just closed his eyes and sighed. 

“I’m kidding. I understand” Bucky said after a second. “She your grandma?” 

“No. She used to babysit me while my mom was doing night shifts.” Steve was surprised at how easy it was to talk about his past with Bucky… He hadn't seen the guy in years yet here he was… revealing everything like it was a over spilling to bursting dam, “Her family just put her in a home with one of those RNs when she started forgetting things… rarely visit her… so I figured the least I can do is go over to see the woman who practically raised me.” 

“Maybe I should visit this lovely lady someday.” Bucky said slowly, staring at the pure openness on Steve’s face. “Get to know the source of Steve’s midnight affection.” 

“I said she's losing her memory not her common sense,” Steve said with a scoff, “She’d take one look at you and drive you off with a baseball bat.” 

Bucky gasped dramatically, “You’d protect me right Steve? This face is too precious to get mauled by some old lady's baseball bat at the very least.” 

Steve did a quick once over, “You’d survive.” 

While Bucky was outraged, Steve whispered, “Barely.” 

Bucky just laughed, “You’re a trip Rogers.” 

“What were you doing out this late then?” Steve mentioned after a moment. 

Bucky tugged his earing nervously, “I told ya didn’t I… I got kicked out.” 

“Real shame too… proportions of a god with his clothes on… who knows what was underneath.” Bucky said, pausing between phrases to determine Steve’s reaction. “But he started spewing about this was a mistake… I’m staying faithful to my wife and whatever… so he kicked me out.”

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” 

Steve couldn't tell. 

“Anyways.. monogamy is a scam-” Bucky started to say before he realized Steve was Death glaring him again. 

“You better take that back right now.” Steve said fiercely. 

“C’mon Steve, you don't subscribe to that Hallmark movie bullshit too…” 

Steve was exactly that person who subscribed to all manners of cheesy rom-com goodness… in fact, he had another romantic comedy movie waiting on the DVR as they were speaking, “I can't believe you-” 

“Look around,” Bucky said gesturing to the empty streets, “Billions of people on this planet… let alone the universe and you honestly believe the peak of humanity… the apex of life as a human being... is settling down with one person for the rest of your life.”

“That’s exactly why it should matter!” Steve said, throwing his hands up in the air, “Everyone in the world and you faithfully devote yourself to each other. That's love.” 

“That’s modern day slavery.” Bucky said blankly, “And I can stay devoted without the whole… one and only aspect of it.” 

Steve just sighed, “Bucky Barnes, You’re the worst.” 

“I’m just honest. No one person is going to love me all the damn time so why not give someone else a shot.” 

“You're just throwing people away when you get bored of ‘em.” Steve said, “Too distracted by the wrapper of a shiny new toy to realize what you’ve got to begin with.” 

“And you’re over-romanticizing a concept built solely to steal every last cent of your hard-earned dollar, sugar.” Bucky said with a smile. 

How was it that the most attractive guy Steve had ever seen also the biggest douchebag in the world? 

Well like partial douchebag… 85% douchebag… the scarf was warm. 

“Goodbye Bucky.” Steve said with a wave. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“Home?” Steve said, pulling out his keys from the dress pocket and motioning to the door. 

“Holy shit.” Bucky said slowly, pronouncing every syllable. 

“What now?” 

“You're not shitting me right?” Bucky asked him seriously, his eyebrows nearly in his hairline with surprise. “Swear to God and all that.” 

“Why would I lie about my house, Buck, it's like 5 in the morning, and I would really like to get out of the cold.” 

“I grew up here.” Bucky said with another smirk, “How’s that fucked up elevator treating you?” 

Steve gave him a look, “How did you-?” 

“If you press Close Door and 5 then your floor, It’ll override and go directly to your floor. Bex’s and I used to do it all the time to get past the all floor programing.” Bucky said with a laugh. “Mr. Pierson still a cheap ass then.” 

Bucky was thrown back into his childhood days when the only thing to do was drive his Ma nuts and run around with Bex in the building. 

He had the sudden urge to calls Bex… see how she was doing after all this time.

“Bye, Bucky.” Steve said, after a minute of staring at the glow Bucky gave off. “You should go home before you get caught frozen with that smile on your face.” 

Bucky just chuckled, lowering his eyelids to look at him, “I thought you liked me smiling…” 

Steve just smiled and rolled his eyes. “Goodnight Bucky.” 

“Good Morning Steve.” Bucky said cheekily, waving as he walked down the steps. 

Bucky walked away into the night humming that same song. 

He was thinking of nothing and everything… Steve and that coincidence… that conversation and just wow… He remembered their first encounter like it was yesterday… Steve learned to paint on a prettier face but he was still that same firecracker of a kid underneath it all. 

But if he was being honest, and Bucky always was… He preferred that younger version of them. He missed that leather jacket persona and the stray mascara on Steve’s upper lids. 

Strange how one encounter could bring back all those feelings… like they were buried right underneath the surface and it took this night just to bring them all pouring back. 

He was in love with the ache that came from smiling too much… when your cheeks just burned a little bit from the stretch. 

His heart swelled with emotions and then it all came crashing down into reality as he came to his destination. 

He got his copy of the keys out of his pocket… they were too new and the weight of them felt awkward in his hand still… He was excluding his metal hand… things always felt awkward in that one. 

The lock clicked open and he slowly tiptoed his way past the floorboards, taking off his boots and his coat and placing them by the door. 

He crept upstairs as best he could… wincing when he placed his foot down and heard a big ass creak. 

He slunk his way into the bedroom as best as he could, undoing his jeans and placing them where they landed. He pulled back the covers and got inside. 

“You're late, darling.” 

He smiled, tucking himself more into her. “They didn't have my favorites.” 

“Bucky Barnes, don't you lie to me.” 

“Never baby.” Bucky said, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. 

She squirmed at the temperature difference, “Let me…. sleep.” 

“Okay.” 

☆ 

“Okay? So you meet the dude again after what…. five years and that's magically is going to change everything? And that's your excuse for coming home late? Mysterious hot guy kept you away?” 

“Sam, be serious.” Steve said, flushed as hell, drinking from a water bottle to cool himself off. “He’s just… Bucky…” 

“Yeah… and I'm just Sam Wilson… but you don't see me distracting people from coming home.” Sam said with his arms crossed, “You could have been sick! You have died! Priorities Rogers! I'd you just told me you needed a ride, I would have picked you up, you meatball.” 

“I couldn't have called you if my phone was dead!” Steve replied, casually tossing his dead phone at Sam so he could charge it for him. “Plus you were on shift so…” 

“So nothing.” Sam said pointedly, “Your ma told me to keep an eye on you… how am I supposed to do that if you go out in this weather wearing only that.” 

Steve just rolled his eyes, “You know how it is… Peggy-” 

“Means the world to you… how could you not stay there until late… the woman who practically raised you.” Sam recited from memory, they had obviously had this conversation before. 

“I’m sorry for making you worry Sam.” Steve said sincerely. “I’ll call you before I leave next time.” 

Sam couldn’t stay mad at him… not when he looked that pitiful and cute. “Yeah, yeah. Just call me first next time… I don’t like the thought of some rotten punk trying to get cozy with you.” 

“I gotta change out of my scrubs but you better be in warmer clothes and your soup better be finished by the time I get back.” Sam said pointedly, making the classic I got my eyes on you gesture. 

“Of course, mum.” Steve said cheekily, “I wouldn’t miss out your chicken noodle for anything.” 

“Fuck off “ 

Steve smiled at Sam’s receding back. 

He didn’t know how he was feeling… He thought Bucky would be just another hot guy that he’d never see again and all those feelings would just be buried deep down within himself...he wasn’t expecting this version of Bucky… He had aged well… the crows feet were so enticing to see whenever he smiled… and oh god that smile… it became less predatory but it still sent shivers down Steve’s spine. 

Bucky was not a “just”. 

There was nothing about him that could ever be just. 

He was… encaptivating.. 

Steve didn’t realize how cold he was…. He as visibly shaking with the cold… goosebumps upon goosebumps on his skin… until he stepped into the sweltering warm of the apartment and started actually defrosting…. That was all Bucky. 

He made everything else fade into the background… Steve didn’t feel cold…. Or hunger… or anxiety… He became so wrapped up in Bucky that the rest of it didn't matter. 

He was probably going to need a whole lot of ice cream therapy after this. 

It must be unnatural to feel so much about a perfect stranger. 

But they talked… like… 

Well like they were not even close to strangers. 

Like they knew each other on a deeper level…. Friends. Best Friends. 

Lovers maybe. 

Weird. 

Steve sneezed. 

“You better be in warmer clothing or I swear to god I will quarantine you. “


	3. It Takes Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once is an accident   
> Twice is coincidence   
> Thrice is .... suspicious and you should probably head straight towards your nearest old lady living in the abandoned cave system to help you through it.   
> You'll Probs have to go spit over your shoulder or something but you'll be fine.
> 
> Or.   
> The time where Fate meddles yet again. Ft. Being late. Motorcycles. Charcoal. And Feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a while! I'm done with finals now! Here's the chapter!

Steve grabbed his keys, “I’ll be back before 6 at the latest so don't start dinner until my key is in that door Sam or I swear to God...” 

“I promise I will not finish dinner but I will boil the water and start the garlic knots so 6 or your pasta will be cold, boy.” 

“Sam, you sound like your mom.” 

“And you sound like a way less cool version of an old banana peel that that alleyway racoon hacked up but who's keeping track” 

“I love you too.” 

“You’re gonna be late.” 

“Nah I won't.” 

Steve looked down at his watch. 

“Oh shit. Yeah I actually will… BYESAMBYE” 

Sam shook his head, turning another page of his newspaper. 

Steve flew down the street, eating his English muffin in one hand and trying to get his watch on with his right. He had promised his Professor that he would open the art studio for the second years and he was running a bit late. 

His flats comically made loud slapping noises as he ran through the streets, Weaving in and out of the early morning commute traffic and gaggles of mom strolling with their strollers. 

Like five minutes late. But the train was always late so-

‘42nd and Grand Terminal. Expected Delays Until Further Notice Thank You For Your Patience.’

Okay more like 40 minutes to an hour tops. 

Fuck.

It would be faster if he walked. 

Okay ran… and like crossed a couple red lights… He could probably make it in like 20? He was wearing sensible shoes and a flowy skirt… He could totally make it. 

Steve ran through the streets. Weaving in and out of more traffic as he went…. This time it was dense with the early morning delivers to the bodegas and restaurants. 

He loved fall but it brought the worst tourist and that didn’t help in the slightest when he was running late. 

Luckily he didn't have his huge ass backpack on like he normally did so it was easy to dodge between people due to his small size. 

Plus his lungs only slightly twinged instead of the full on pain he felt. Thanks Asthma. 

He was totally going to make it.. just a couple more blocks. 

He looked down at his watch. He had plenty of time he- 

-BAM- 

He was falling straight into someone’s who was moving backward but it felt like running into a wall of leather. 

“OH SHIT MY- Steve?” 

It was Bucky. 

Of course it was Bucky. 

“Goddammit. Sorry but I'm already late.” 

“Wait, are you okay?” Bucky asked, holding him for a second. 

Bucky was the beautiful accident just waiting to happen… He protected Steve from the on flowing traffic and bustle. 

It was unfair how he looked great in broad daylight too… half of Steve wished that he was really hideous so he could finally get over that minor itty-bitty crush that he had… but the other half was praising God that Bucky was just as hot in the daytime as he was in the cover of the night. 

He was wearing that leather jacket again too… as well as a huge black eye and other random bandaged wounds on his face. 

“Are *You* okay?” Steve asked, looking up and down at Bucky who was clearly favoring his right side. 

“Hah. Yeah I kinda got into a fight but it's nothing.” Bucky said, sheepishly, picking at the Hello Kitty band aid on his face, “Where ya headed to so fast?” 

“Art class at NYCC. Gotta get the first years settled.” Steve was rocking back and forth on his heels, subconscious about the amount of sweat pooling on his back. 

“You wanna ride?” Bucky said, pointing to his bike in the alleyway behind him, “Easier than running into strangers.” 

He must have been headed that way when Steve bumped into him or when Bucky bumped into Steve. Semantics. 

It was the sexiest bike that Steve had ever seen and he had absolutely no idea what make or model it was other than of course resident bad boy Bucky Barnes rode a goddamn motorcycle. 

“I see how it is, melon drop. You totally ignore the conversation for another man” Bucky’s conversation partner said in a sickeningly sweet voice that was layered with sarcasm, “Are all blondes just the same to you?” 

“Fuck off, Barton.” Bucky said lightly, rolling his eyes. 

If Steve thought Bucky was bandaged then this Barton was two seconds away from being laid up in a hospital bed somewhere… and the guy was blowing kisses while balancing on crutches.

“Hi, Steve was it? Clint Barton” Clint stared at Bucky with a grin that spelt nothing but trouble as he shook Steve’s hand precariously balanced on his crutches, “ I’ve already staked my claim on Bucko-Bear but I’d be willing to share for someone as cute as you” 

Steve blushed and looked back at the time instead of answering, “It’s… nice… to meet you? but we really need to go.” 

“See you later Steve.” Barton said with a wave of his crutch then he staged whispered to Bucky, “Think of me later when he turns you down… I know I’m on crutches again but I still know how to show a man a good time.” 

Bucky just rolled his eyes and led a slightly confused Steve over to his bike. 

“So...Is he….. your-?” 

“Best friend.” Bucky tied back his hair and put on his black matte helmet,“Let’s me sleep in his apartment in exchange for walking his dog and paying for cable and netflix. Occasionally, though, I gotta bail him out… the son of a bitch can't hear for shit so he gets beat up for not paying attention or for just being dumb about his surroundings. He once walked straight into one guy’s fist cause he didn't hear the fight going on around him” 

Steve winced but nodded “I’m partially Deaf in my left ear but I get by” 

Bucky nodded and gave Steve a half-smile, holding another helmet out to Steve, “Hold on tight okay?” 

Bucky swung his leg over and for a second, Steve might have been a tad too obsessed with staring at the view…. He was weak and single and goddamn did Bucky look great in a pair of jeans straddling a motorcycle. 

He composed himself as quickly as he could, and held tightly to Bucky’s waist… feeling the weathered cracks in between the smooth texture planes of his jacket. 

Then they were off. 

The bike was incredible. The way it weaved in and out of traffic. Steve’s skirt was fluttering in the wind and he held a little tighter at the sudden lurch into traffic but he was mostly surprised at the sudden acceleration the bike was able to accomplish in a small distance. 

Steve half-expected Bucky to be a reckless speedster but he was more hyper aware of everything else around them from the sudden cars changing lanes and the bus stopping every so often and demanding to get into their lane. Steve felt himself become comfortable with the whole experience and it felt nice just to hold on and trust his life in somebody else's hands and to trust that Bucky would be careful with it if he did. 

He might have been watching too many romantic comedies again…

The ride was over way faster than Steve would have liked and he reluctantly let Bucky go. Standing on shaky legs, He took off the helmet but he just wanted to stay there for a little while longer… ride on that motorcycle just a little longer… class be damned. 

“So, umm.. maybe we could-“ Steve started, wanting to prolong the moment. 

“You’re welcome and I have work in like… twenty minutes” Bucky filled in the blanks for Steve as he flipped up the visor, “And you have class so go.” 

Steve fiddled with the strap of his messenger bag and nodded. He couldn't just ask Bucky out on a date after one really great but 15 minute tops motorcycle ride and a couple of conversations here and there… Sure, he liked him… maybe even more than liked but Life and responsibilities came first. Heck, he had no clue about what Bucky did or who he actually was. He figured that Bucky had a life outside of that club but all of that mystery made him want Bucky more. He wanted to discover the answers to those questions… He wanted to know about that metal arm that gleamed in the sun and how many other fights he got into on Clint’s behalf. 

He was way too invested in this train of thought and it resulted in him just standing there unable to move. 

“Go to class Steve.” Bucky said with a smile and a shooing gesture. “You're going to be late.” 

Steve gave him a small wave and headed towards the building in a trance… muscle memory the only thing guiding him… each step was shakey… partially because of the bike ride but mostly because of Bucky. 

Walking away from Bucky was like trying to pull two magnets apart… the tension between the right sides of the magnets… you could feel that brief tension as you pulled them apart… and it would only take a small push to bring them barreling back into each other. 

Bucky just shook his head… He knew the exact effect that the bike did to people. He could have easily grabbed Clint’s keys and driven Steve in that shitty ass Volvo but he wanted to see that blissed out face that Steve was now wearing. 

He was totally going to be late to work… but it was worth feeling Steve cling onto him as tightly as possible. 

The way his skirt had peeked up a couple of inches and Bucky caught a glimpse on those gracefully ballerina-like ankles. 

Goddammit… He was getting flustered over ankles! ANKLES! Like this was some Victorian era romance piece… He was not turning into Mr. Darcy dammit. 

But they were Steve’s ankles… and Bucky wondered what it would be like the press a kiss right there against the bone…. If Steve was ticklish…. How Steve would probably grasping at his sheets tears in his eyes from laughing too much…. begging Bucky to stop- 

His crush on Steve was getting more and more difficult to manage. At first he thought that it was just the pure attraction of having someone smaller than you… it brought out that side of Bucky that wanted to protect them but also ruin them for anyone else at the same time. 

But it was growing to be more than that… Steve was… Hopeful. Loving. 

When he first saw Steve, Bucky thought he was just another one of those blushing virgin twinks. .. easy to get a rise out of with a couple of lines and an easy-going smile… completely worth it when they melted in your arms…. 

But that wasn't Steve at all.

Sure he had been young and that blush sure was something to see… 

But Steve honestly cared about other people and his red-head friend with him cared about Steve…. 

There was something about that interaction that appealed to Bucky… He was a sucker for being cared for like how she was looking out for Steve.   
Honestly, if Steve’s friend wasn’t there, then this would be a one and done situation but… it wasn’t… and now…. 

Bucky wanted that… wanted to be the subject of Steve’s affection… like a cat curled up in a sunbeam.

He was greedy too… Sue him. 

There was this thought that was also lingering around his brain…. Taunting him. 

If he said yes sooner, maybe he would have had all of this sooner… and for longer too. 

If Bucky started dating Steve all those years ago when they first met… He would have- 

No. 

He did the right thing by saying no. Steve was way too young. 

And Bucky wasn’t that great of a guy back then. 

He could admit that. 

He needed to grow… and if he had been with Steve while he was still like that… it wouldn't have been good for either of them. 

He only wished that they could make up for lost time. 

☆ 

Bucky didn’t want to drop Steve off for class either. 

He had felt that pull and it would have been helluva lot easier to just speed out of there and drive. 

But they were adults with adults responsibilities. 

And sometimes life is a lot less romantic comedy than he wished it was. 

☆

“Do you think he's okay?”   
“He’s been grinning since the start of class… does that sound like okay to you?”   
“Maybe he’s high.”   
“Maybe he had a lot of coffee?”   
“But he doesn't have a cup.”   
“Guys. Guys. Did you see that motorcycle?”   
“Channel… You have a girlfriend.”   
“I also got eyes don't I? Plus she would be staring too.”   
“I bet he saw motorcycle guy too.”   
“I bet he’s-” 

“Do you guys need some help on the assignment?” Steve asked politely, he had heard the entire conversation and it got just a tad too close to Bucky talk then he thought was appropriate. 

They were supposed to be getting paint but it seemed like there was a mini-conference in the supply closet. 

The five students all blushed, stirring more paint into their little cups and quickly returned back to their seats. 

Amateurs… Steve told himself internally. He remembered hiding away in the closet himself with Nat to talk about anything and everything during his semesters with her... But it wasn’t until he had finished his final portfolio that his Prof. told him about the strategically placed mirror in one of the art pieces hanging on the wall that was placed specifically to keep an eye on anyone in there. 

Steve fanned himself a little with the paint swatches… He knew he was blushing but he didn't realize that he was smiling like a goddamn idiot this entire time. He was supposed to be professional. 

He could still feel where Bucky’s fingers had accidentally brushed against his when he handed the helmet back and it sent this shiver of tingly warmth up his body. 

It was official. Bucky Barnes had completely taken over his life. 

Three encounters… a couple hours combined in total and Steve was acting like this. A lovestruck fool for a practical stranger. 

But. 

No one had ever made him feel this way so quickly. 

Bucky was mischievous yet kind… Steve still had his beanie and scarf at the apartment from when Bucky walked him home... stereotypical hard ass wrapped in leather but always the softest touch whenever he did anything…. 

Bucky Barnes was a collection of oxymorons and Steve partially wondered what else that included. 

He was also wondering what it would be like to ride that motorcycle again… The power behind it as it made its way through early morning rush hour traffic… that matte black finish with glossy silver highlights that somehow made it stand out and look incognito… it looked like Bucky had stolen it from a film not something that you could have in real life... it was beautiful bike and it was clear that it was an extension of Bucky himself… so it was only natural that Steve would want to experience that ride again. 

He fanned himself furiously as he thoughts went from nice and appropriate to not even slightest appropriate for class. 

He grabbed his old canvas sheet sketchbook and a stack of charcoal… kneading the gray eraser in one hand to warm it up as he went back to his seat. He wanted to capture that image before it was gone from his mind forever. 

He made sure that none of the students needed his help painting the collection of vases lit in the semi-circle they surrounded and then spread the canvas out over his space on the floor behind them so he could still see what they were doing while he worked. He held the corners down with old coffee cans filled with brittle paint brushes and began to sketch using his fingers to get the soft outline that he wanted before going back to line with the charcoal. 

He let the sounds of paint brushes on canvas guide him as he drew one motorcycle after another overlapping them as if he was drawing cell animation. His major was fine arts but he had taken classes in nearly every art discipline. . . His wrist hated him for that brutal short animation project but the process of drawing the same thing a million times did have some comfort to him. 

The charcoal allowed him to rub in the details… He loved how he could use his fingers to get the details right and it felt satisfying to just use his hands to create art. 

He hummed along with the soft piano, picking up a sharper, darker piece of charcoal to outline where he wanted the eyes to be. 

It wasn't until he got the eyes nearly right and just as his watch had beeped that the three hour class was nearly over that Steve realized what he had drawn. 

Or better yet who. 

He had smudged charcoal on nearly every part of his body from his forehead and forearms and his hands and top were a complete charcoal mess. 

But none of that mattered. 

He was looking down at a beautiful charcoal rendition of a pair of eyes surrounded by layered motorcycles. 

Steve leaned forward gingerly to touch the eyes- Bucky’s eyes… because that’s what they were.. who was he trying to fool… He did get a new prescription for his contacts but he wasn't blind… He could admit that these were Bucky’s eyes staring up at him on the parchment....with the crows feet creases and everything. It was surreal… how identical they were. It was like Steve had perfectly captured them in charcoal and they stared at him with a trace of amusement like Bucky oftentimes did… like something about Steve was amusing. 

Steve shook his head and finally looked up to see that the class had silently moved their sketchbooks to face him and some were even beginning to sketch him drawing in charcoal rather the the collection of vases the professor wanted them to focus on. 

Steve blushed and The class blushed too at being caught…. All of them not daring to meet Steve’s eyes. 

“I’m assuming that the vases weren’t as intriguing as our Steve but class has ended 15 minutes ago.” 

It was the Professor next door who had popped her head in to check in on the class. 

At the sound of her voice, the class dispersed from around Steve to pack their bags and put necessary art supplies away. 

“Sorry Prof. Grey.” Steve said, moving to get the hairspray to set the charcoal. “I swear they were painting before.” 

Professor Jean Grey was one of the many art professors that Steve had had over the years. She was a tall powerful, stunning woman with a history of using art as a protest element against discriminatory government practices. She was extremely passionate about the people and her classroom was an ode to that with nearly every surface covered with some art piece from a former student of hers. 

She still had the picture Steve had taken of her hands-on teaching with some first years about composition and the rule of three... the lighting had made her red hair look like it was on fire and you could tell that she was in another great teaching moment. 

She said that it was her favorite piece but Steve thought she was mostly biased.

“How’s the baby?” Steve asked politely, holding the piece up to spray it with hairspray. 

“Kicking her mama’s bladder like no tomorrow.” Jean said with a little goo in her voice, rubbing her protruding stomach fondly “I can already tell she's going to be a little rebel rouser like her mommy.” 

Steve laughed, placing the paper flat and nodded at the students as they said bye. “Did you ever doubt?” 

Jean silently laughed, “No.” 

“But who’s the handsome guy you got there?” 

Steve blushed, cursing how red he got when he was under her scrutiny, “No-no one.” 

“Mmmhmm.” Jean said, with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye, “Does Mr. No One have a name?” 

“I- I mean he- I mean- it’s kinda-” Steve stammered, carefully rolling it out of sight like hiding it would solve the problem. 

She just raised her eyebrows at him… sometimes Steve swore that she could read his mind but the eyebrows alone were already pushing his instinct to tell her everything. 

Steve sighed, giving up, “Bucky. His name is Bucky.” 

“Paint would be a better medium to get all those little details right… photography is always a great choice too.” Jean said, unfurling the paper to stare at it closely, “You can get all those blues a bit better but the charcoal makes-” 

“Him softer.” 

“Him softer.” 

“.....You got it bad Steve.” She was staring critically at his piece like it had told her all of his embarrassing emotions that he had about Bucky in her ear and she couldn't believe it. 

She paused for a second to narrow her eyes at him sharply, “This better not be another What’s that guy’s name phase because your emotions are already bleeding a little too heavy into your art and I don't think it's wise if-.” 

“His name was Bobby. And Bucky is not a Bobby… he’s Bucky.” Steve said with a shrug, removing his watch and wiping his arms down with soap to get rid of the stray charcoal smeared on them. “It’s…. Different. He’s different.” 

“You have charcoal on your forehead kiddo” Jean pointed out, leaning over the sink to rub at it. “Tell me about him sometimes… once you get passed the whole obsession phase and you see him as an actual living person with flaws.” 

“This isn't Bobby.” Steve said pointedly. 

“Okay. This Bucky is way cuter anyway.” Jean said with a smile, patting the paper fondly. “He’s got kind eyes but I'm sensing a little bad boy in him too. Good for you Stevie.”

“I love you Jean.” Steve said partially mocking but mostly sincere. 

“Love you too.” She said with a wink, she patted him on the back and went to prepare for her next class or go to the bathroom again thanks to her baby. 

Steve sighed, watching the charcoal swirl down the drain, he grabbed a couple of dirty brushes that the students mixed in with the clean ones and began to wash them thoroughly. 

Was this another Bobby? 

Steve had to ask himself that question because he honestly did not know the answer but it was fun to see the paint mix as it went down the drain as he tried to solve it. 

Bobby was- a mistake. 

Bobby was fine lines and a cool tall glass of yum but goddamn. Mistake. 

And not even the typical gay person having a crush on a straight guy mistake because they were both gay… 

Bobby was a mistake because Steve had spent months lusting after him… completely enamored with everything about Bobby and using every available sheet of paper, canvas, and leftover clay to render multiple multiple images of Bobby and all of his assets… In Steve’s defence, art was the only way he could express himself in a healthy way so he’d rather have a stack of artwork then something weird like Bobby’s toenail clippings or something. 

But Steve had to admit that the whole thing was borderline stalker-y and his obsession caused Steve to lose sleep, barely eat, and hardly get out of bed…. Only going to see Bobby at school in the class that they shared… All this pent up and useless frustration filled angst only to be Completely. Friend zoned. while Bobby went on to get engaged to some transfer student that very same year. 

Steve had spent so much time being obsessed with Bobby that he neglected basic human upkeep and he wasn't treating himself right. 

He stopped being a person and that was his mistake. 

Having a crush on Bobby was fine but neglecting his health and well-being… big no-no.

Steve understood that now. It was a rough time but it was better now. He was better with it now. 

But with Bucky… it wasn’t like with Bobby…. Steve wasn’t experiencing that same dehibilating attraction that he did with Bobby when it came to his feelings about Bucky. 

Well, Bucky was also hot as fuck and damn, okay Steve was already subconsciously starting down the art expression path thinking about all the ways he could commit Bucky to paper but Bucky wasn’t Bobby. 

He was just there. And he knew Steve existed. And they had their owns lives where they weren't orbiting around each other at every possible moment. 

Bucky cared about Steve… He just dropped everything to get Steve here on time for Christ Sake… and the whole beanie thing was something… it had to be. 

So if Steve enjoyed the motorcycle a little too much… it was because Bucky had done that. Gone out of his way to be there for Steve without any question…. Any hesitation…. Without any thanks. 

Not a lot of people did that for nearly strangers. 

Steve smiled a little trailing his finger through the paint water. Damn… Bucky was something wasn’t he? 

Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk….. 

Steve rubbed his hands through his hair to cool himself down. 

There was this pleasant buzz that was buzzing through his body and Steve wanted to curl himself into that feeling but he settled for curling his toes instead. 

Steve was suddenly hit with the memory of their first meeting and that…. Phone Call. 

That good feeling suddenly froze in his veins and left him feeling like his world was suddenly thrown into crystal clear clarity. 

He had mourned. 

That's what his therapist had called it. 

He had stopped going to clubs out of the possible coincidence… no the fear… that Steve would see Bucky sitting across the bar with someone else hanging off his every word….

Steve didn’t know how to handle that.

So he just did what he did best, avoided it and turning deeper in art. 

There were a couple of paintings in his closet that were all from this period. 

They were all angry… 

Bitter.

Sharp.

But there was the overwhelming feeling of sadness and longing from them too. 

Steve didn’t want to get rid of them but the metaphysical weight of their significance was weighing a little heavy on his heart… bad enough as it is. 

By letting Bucky back in, would the same thing just happen all over again? 

Would he just be shut out again? 

It made sense why Bucky did it but Steve felt like a starved man at the time… wanting the one thing that he couldn’t have and no substitute could fill it. 

Maybe he had transferred all of his leftover feelings to Bobby and the others to get by. 

Figure that if he had someone else it wouldn't matter if Bucky had been just another handsome stranger…. Bucky would have been a memory that Steve could look back on… vague details but a point of development in his love life. 

But that didn’t happen. 

Bucky was back in his somehow. 

And Steve was so grateful for it. 

Like he had forgotten what he was missing and then Bucky reintroduced that missing back into his life with those damn smiles of his. 

But at the same time… 

Steve had felt relieved when Clint wasn’t Bucky’s boyfriend. 

Like really relieved. 

He shouldn't be feeling that at all. 

Like Bucky was his. 

They were completely different people now. Or at least Steve hoped so… 

He only wanted the time to reintroduce themselves to each other. 

☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was debating between this chapter and another more vague sad one... but this one won because it's a tad more angsty in the whole character department area.   
> And oh yeah. X-men are in this lol.


	4. Missteps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claps your hands to a different beat  
> Sometimes you need to accept defeat  
> The city of New York will eat you whole  
> Beware the ones who bewitch your soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is supposed to be read as a prose poem. The vagueness is really important but I'm explanning what it means at the END NOTES.

Bucky turned the key… and he already knew something was wrong. 

He was tired.

Today was messenger day so he had ran all over the city delivering messages and packages.  
His sweat acted as another layer of skin that he wanted more than anything to shower it off him. 

It was Thursday. 

Their day. 

But that probably wasn't going to happen. 

She was sitting in the window seat with a bottle of wine… no glass just taking sips straight out of the bottle. 

The tall side lamp was on. Casting long shadows and a yellow glow in the room. 

Bucky always loved her sense of taste when it came to decorating the apartment. The delicate balance of kitschy with Old Hollywood. 

She was everywhere… her touches seeped into the woodwork of the place… the apartment was an extension of herself and Bucky could tell that they were both disappointed with him. 

It was time. 

It was that time. 

“Hey-” 

She just stared at him. 

He knew. 

“Let me take a shower first-” 

She nodded but her head looked like it was too damn heavy for her to keep up for long. 

He headed to the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes as he went, popping out the pieces in his arm that couldn't get wet, and doing a mental checklist of what was his and what he had left after all this time. 

He knew this was going to happen. 

It always did. 

That moment when they wanted more then what Bucky was offering to give. 

Sometimes it was just sorry. 

Sometimes it was his shit thrown at him. Angry. Angry words. 

And then it was times like these where it was soft goodbyes…. Already mourning before he even left. 

He sighed, letting the warmth of the shower pour over him. 

He was going to miss this. 

He missed all of them. 

He sighed again, scrubbing his hair with that coconut oil she loved to put in the shower for him. 

He’d probably take it with him. 

Bucky felt. 

Empty. 

He was just too worn out to have any emotion and he let them spiral down the rain with the dirty water. 

His metal arm hung there…. The hydrophobic pieces allowed him to have some of those finer skills… holding a pencil and such… but without it, the arm was more of a glorified and expense and shiny claw. 

He didn’t want to prolong this any longer than was necessary. 

He grabbed everything as he went. Extra toothbrushes, toilet paper. The weird duck that he liked. 

The bedroom had his bottom drawer of clothes… the far left of the closest… He started wearing layers, stuffing things into duffels, tying his shoes together to fit. 

He didn’t realize that she was in the doorway until he turned around. 

“What are you looking for?” 

“My board.”

“You left it in the closet…” She said, motioning behind her. 

He moved to get it but she stopped him in the doorway with her hand placed in front of the doorway, the other one on his wrist. “Bucky.” 

She was trying to see something in his face… regret maybe… but she was a little disappointed to see nothing there. 

He softly grabbed her wrist, pressing a kiss there. 

She was so tiny…. Yet she dealt so much with his bullshit over the year and a half they were together. 

He had met her in a club…. Where else? 

She had the tendency to drink the fruitiest of drinks and Bucky thought she would be another one of those easy times. 

But she had proved him wrong. 

It was her to dragged him into her bed. 

She was needy yet assertive and Bucky had so many great memories of them just spending those rare weekends off together in bed… spooning to keep out the New York cold… waiting to catch up for another round. 

Domestic. 

She whispered… They’ll make it work… it didn't matter if he was gone half the time or she had to leave early in the mornings sometimes… They’d make it work. 

She knew. He knew. 

One day over breakfast of scalding coffee and slightly burnt bagels with the works, she had given him this key. 

Well places it on the counter and hope he got the message. 

She was never really great at being sappy. 

Bucky took it off the chain around his neck and held it in his hand, memorizing the weight of it…

He offered it out to her like like a truce. 

She said, “Keep it.” 

It felt like an anchor around his neck. 

The easiest way to do this was clinical. Remember what you brought. Take everything. Pack your bags. Tie the shoelaces together. Soldier on. Don't look back. 

Don't look back. 

Don't look. 

She was going to drink more than that bottle still precariously in her hands. 

Defeated

Bucky sighed, “El?” 

She took a shuddering breath, bracing herself for another wave. She's cracking at the edges… one soft whisper away from crumbling. 

“I loved you.” He whispered. “I’ll never forget you.” 

She crumbled. 

She furrowed her eyebrows and braced harder… cling on tighter.. close in tighter… 

He broke through anyway… He always broke through. 

She didn't want to end up being that girl. 

She did anyway. 

“We were good together right? You and me?” 

In another life, she would scoffed at her begging. . She had more to give then that. 

But in this one, begging was the only thing she could have done. 

Bucky just looked at her desperation with pity, 

He had done this to her. A crime in and if itself. 

“Elena.” 

She already knew she was a sad sight. His chastising made it worse. 

She clenched her teeth, “You were the best Goddamn Thing that Ever Happened to Me… Don’t Just.. Don't Just- Please Bucky.” 

She couldn't stand to look at the wall that was his face. 

She had to mean something… this had to mean something… why wasn't he- 

His entire body sighed and held her close, tucking her into her chest, “You deserve Better.” 

He continued fiercely, “And You’ll find Better.” 

“They’ll Never Be You.” She whispered just as fiercely back.

He kissed her forehead. 

Each kiss she craved like they were rarer than any diamond and she wore them proudly, her precious treasures. 

He looked into her eyes and saw the future for j us to a second. She would be alright. 

They all were in the end. 

He gathered the rest of his stuff, hiking it further onto his shoulder. 

A silent goodbye. 

She surged forward, “I wish Things were Different.” 

He nodded. 

“If you need to…” 

“You’ll catch a cold, pretty thing. Go back inside… I know.” 

She nodded a couple of times to reassure herself and she closed the door softly. Whispering her goodbyes to the wood. 

Bucky stared at her door for a second. Memorizing… always Memorizing. 

He had no right to be jealous. 

He established the rules. He knew the rules. 

Follow the rules. 

Number 1. Don't get attached  
Number 2. Our Time is Ours  
Number 3. Know when to walk away  
Number 4. No look backs No regrets.  
Number 5. Be Open 

5 Rules. 

He nearly broke all of them. 

It had started a couple of weeks ago. 

It was easier to stay away then face the truth. 

She had fallen in love with a girl from work. 

Coffee date here. Dinner Date There. 

Bucky didn’t mind sleeping on someone else's lipstick stained pillow. 

It was nice to see her happy. 

She had gotten home drunk one day… hanging off that other girl’s drunken frame. 

Bucky was making spaghetti on the stove. 

It burned. 

The early that morning she whispered in her sleep… “I only brought her so you would stay.” 

Bucky froze. 

“You’re distracted and slipping away.” 

He Thought of a Name that Wasn’t Hers. 

“Give me time.” He whispered in her ear. 

“We’re already Out.” 

She went back to bed, tucked herself into that other girl. 

He knew she was right. 

She confronted him over a cup of coffee at breakfast… “They better be something special.” 

Yes, he was. 

“You know the rules.” 

“Do they?” 

Bucky hummed but it wasn’t in agreement. 

She held the coffee mug with both hands… trying to center herself. 

Bucky was lost in thought. 

She knew they were different. 

She knew she had to Let Go. 

Didn't mean she was happy about it. 

Bucky knew too. 

He didn’t want to accept it but he knew. 

It was late enough that he could afford to drive slowly on his bike. 

He was tired. 

Empty eggshell. 

He trudged back up the step of Clint’s apartment. 

He placed his stuff in a pile by the door. Too tired to care about it anymore. 

He face planted into the couch. 

Clint awkwardly pat his head with the XBox controller. 

“Another one?” 

“The Last One.” 

Clint raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything over the matter. 

“Best for Last.” 

Clint handed him the second controller. 

Brainless. 

Brain Full. 

Across the streets and not that busy sidewalk, Steve had a dilemma. 

A Night In. A Night Out. 

One would make all the Difference. 

He had to try. He didn’t have his number. Facebook turned up empty. 

One would Make All the Difference. 

Steve threw his coat on and walked out. 

“You’re making a mistake few dared to make twice.” 

Nat. 

“He’s different now in the daylight.” 

“Fool ya once. Fool ya Twice.” 

“At least I got to try.” 

“Don’t come crying home, my pretty blue eyes.” She said, admiring the black rim around them.

He nodded. 

If Steve had gotten down just a little faster, he would have collided with a disaster. 

Not the Bucky that he knew. 

A Ghost in the Shell in the Shape of You. 

But now he's chasing ghost down 44th Avenue. 

Chasing and Chasing a Ghost He Thought He Knew. 

Missteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem meaning:  
> I wanted to convey that not everything lines up perfectly all the time. Bucky breaks off one of his many open relationships that he has... and I wanted to show that these people do mean a lot to him and even though he's cocky all the time... he cares. It wears him out. His section doesn't rhyme as neatly signifying the disorder and chaos that's he's going through. It's a lot more robotic and metalic. Steve on the other hand has a bit more balance in his life. Hence the rhyming. But he's not quite in sync with his world. His support system is trying to protect him. But he's needs to make his own decisions. One of them is to find Bucky. So he goes back to the club scene to find him. Only Bucky is in Clint's apartment grieving.  
> See also: You can't always get what you wannnnttttt. 
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me on this one! I had to really re-work some of it. AND it's a lil depressing to see Bucky like this. I like my boy happy dammit. Who wrote this??? I'mma sue. The next chapter will be a bit happier??? I make no promises. But I'm tired of this sad shit. It's sad. Hahahaha.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, I would love to hear what you think of this! Send a comment! Give this a kudos! Bookmark it!


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